


Rehearsal

by lapenserosa



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Fantasizing, Hand Jobs, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lapenserosa/pseuds/lapenserosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex in a dressing room, simple as that. </p><p>This is the results of Sinatra looking so sexy stretched out in that barber chair in Robin and the 7 Hoods and too many Martin and Lewis clips....and random angst thrown in, just 'cause, ya know, I wrote this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rehearsal

Dean was sweating bullets as he ran off stage, doing his best not to look in Jerry’s direction. Dean’s sides were beginning to ache like he’d been running the track. It had taken him forever to catch his breath, the audience had gone wild, and he’d barely kept in the laughter that long. Jerry was insufferable but that's what made things such a gas, the unpredictability, but tonight it felt like Jerry had it in for Dean personally.

Even now letting that much of the evening occur in his thoughts had Dean inhaling deeply, running his hand across his mouth, doing his best to bite back the laughter that threatened to suck the air from his lungs again. Dean shifted in the old barber’s chair that had been added to their dressing room after Jerry had gone rooting around in the props department and insisted it share their dressing room. Dean didn't mind it because when Jerry was pacing or occupying what little space they had to stretch their legs, Dean could recline and retreat to his own thoughts. However, it felt like Dean couldn’t even let another thought cross his mind and there was Jerry, right there with him looking into his eyes for his next cue.

Though they had long ago exited the stage and the crew had pretty well cleaned out, they were still sitting there in the dressing room talking, batting around ideas. Dean cracking up, shoving Jerry because now it did make his sides hurt and it was like Jerry knew it and was getting a kick on out of it, until Dean got up and put some distance between them. Jerry’s rambling slowed to silence.

Jerry looks over for reassurance, only to see Dean isn’t listening. Dean’s attention has drifted and he has retreated to that new favorite chair.

Jerry doesn’t doubt himself for a second as he climbs onto his partners lap and looms ever closer, threatening to press his face against Dean’s cheek but never coming any closer than just an irritating, hot breath away. As soon as the discomfort occurs to Dean, Jerry had picked up on his subtle bristling and pressed closer; streaming warm a breath along Dean’s cheek relishing the irritation.

“You’ve turned the lock, Jerr?” Dean’s voice was low and rich, leaving no room for misunderstanding his meaning.

Jerry couldn’t suppress the shiver that Dean’s voice evoked. He didn’t need to look at Dean to know that he was playing serious. The mask was down and when Dean turned it on Jerry felt like his shoes might fall off and that he’d melt into a pool in their soles.

Jerry gulps, glancing toward the door, and as soon as Dean's eyes follow, Jerry turns abruptly to catch Dean’s lips in a kiss.

Dean doesn’t have to shove him away so readily, there’s no audience to coo and roar at the spectacle. Dean allows himself a groan of pleasure into Jerry’s mouth as he lets the younger man take the lead, softly opening his mouth and letting Jerry in. If Jerry continued Dean wasn’t sure he’d be much good in stopping him.

Eventually, Dean’s hand went to the scruff of Jerry’s neck, hauling him back before he went too far, “You didn’t answer me, Jerr.”

“You think they’d be surprised that we rehearse like this?” Jerry ran his hands inside Dean’s shirt, smirking as Dean shifted under his touch.

“What are we rehearsing, exactly?”

Jerry was working on Dean’s cuffs, pulling the shirt off his shoulders, pushing it into a bunch at his waist. Like this, Dean is pure distraction and Jerry gets lost in kissing him, running his hands over Dean’s chest and shoulders. When Dean wraps his hands around Jerry’s waist it bring Jerry’s thoughts to focus. Then Jerry is the one hauling Dean forward to pull the shirt from behind him, unfurling it, shaking out the wrinkles, just to throw it over the unused make-up chair. Jerry’s hands worked quickly and happily. Jerry’s energy was enough to make Dean’s head swim, to say nothing of the way he touched him. When Jerry’s lips broke from his, Dean couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

“I haven’t put a number together yet but I am sure I can find a way to work this into the act,” Jerry’s grin was devilish, and playful, and so handsome when he wasn’t mugging.

“Don’t you dare,” Dean meant it to sound intimidating but it came out breathless as he imagined Jerry giving his happy, roving hands freedom in front of an entire audience, he was hardly restrained these days as it was. The possibilities flooded Dean’s thoughts as Jerry continued to pull away each item of clothing on Dean that might obstruct the path of Jerry's hands. Dean wasn’t entirely sure how he arrived there; hissing though clenched teeth, trying his best to stay in control as Jerry exposed his leaking cock, wrapping his hand around it, pressing. Dean tried his best to stifle a groan into Jerry’s shoulder as Jerry’s hand began to rise, nice and slow, pinning their cocks together in Jerry’s warm grasp.

“Why not?” Jerry teased between perfectly timed kisses, each set to capture Dean’s lips as his hand made another tantalizing slide over the weeping head of his dick. When Jerry’s hand slid lower, he released Dean’s lips, “it would be one way to keep you from laughing.” Jerry could feel Dean smiling as Dean pressed his lips along Jerry’s neck.

“Isn’t that what we do now?” Dean mumbled, he dared not look at Jerry or else he knew his voice would break before delivering the rest, “You tease and see how long I can keep a straight face?”

Dean knew he was a success when Jerry’s mouth stopped its teasing and he felt a warm huff of laughter across his damp, and now, probably bruising, skin.

“Easy, Dino,” Jerry ceased his ministration and returned to look Dean in the eye, foreheads pressed close, not kissing but letting their lips graze one another as Jerry spoke, “I might just, if I thought I’d get away with it.”

“Get away with it?” Dean wondered where Jerry was taking this one but he’d be lying if he’d said he wasn’t interested in finding out.

“Yeah,” Jerry moved his fist between them in a slow, rocking pace. He loved watching Dean struggle as he finished this last thought, “You’d lose your cool, eventually.”

Dean kept their lips from meeting on that pass, although they were still pressed just as close, “You’d have to step off stage, eventually.”

Between the frustration and thrill that shot through him at Jerry’s scheme, Dean’s last words sounded more like a threat than anything else. Jerry looked up at the older man and the glint in Dean’s eyes made Jerry’s stomach flip, he looked as if he might fuck him incoherent. Jerry didn’t make a sound, just closed his eyes, picking up the pace of his fist now firmly trapped between their exposed torsos.

Now it was Dean’s turn to read Jerry and seeing how this whole menacing act had him going he couldn’t resist pushing it further. Dean had regained some of the smooth, knee-weakening authority to his voice when he spoke.

“You’d have to return here eventually, too. And if your petting on stage still had me frustrated,” Dean gripped the nape of Jerry’s neck as Jerry began to move faster, seeking out his own pleasure now as Dean spoke. “I’d wait for you and pull you back to this room so fast it would make your head swim.”

“Not with the crew milling around back here you wouldn’t, bully.” Jerry bit back moan as he caught a hint of the edge of his release.

“No,” Dean’s hands clung to the firm roundness of Jerry’s ass, fingers pressing hard into the shorts that separated Dean’s hand from skin. Jerry felt sure Dean was preparing to rip them off of him, “That just means you’d have to find a way to keep that mouth of yours quiet, or busy.”

Dean caught Jerry’s lips again as his keening plea threatened to be louder than the last. Jerry had abandoned any sense of restraint and was now fucking against Dean in longer, tighter thrusts as Dean continued to tease.

“You leave me high and dry like that and I wouldn’t even wait,” Dean’s voice is low and serious, and his hands still clawing at Jerry, “you do that to me, then you better get yourself ready first because I won’t stop to do it for you.”

Dean claws at the fabric of Jerry's shorts, enjoying the way Jerry shivers and pants in his arms the more threatening and needy he becomes. With some careful maneuvering, Jerry turns in Dean’s lap and puts his feet on the floor, not wanting to lose contact with the other man as he strips himself of the last of his clothes. Jerry does have to let go of Dean but hastily crawls back into his lap, his remaining clothes gone and clutching a small bottle, half full of a clear substance. Dean snatches it away, twisting off the cap and flicking the lid in the direction of the make-up table. Dean lets a dribble of oil trace its way down Jerry’s back, sliding to the crest of Jerry’s ass. Dean pours enough to slick his fingers into his palm and passes his hand over Jerry’s opening, with little warning Dean slides one finger, then two into the squirming younger man.

“I like the idea of you sneaking off before the show, hiding from me, trying to keep your cool, and doing this, just like this,” A few gentle strokes and then Dean was off to a steady rhythm in and out the younger man who sat astride him, eyes closed, lost in the images Dean was sending like blasts across his imagination, and feeling how his muscles twitched and his body began to stutter, if Dean kept on he wouldn’t make it much further.

“Dean, please.” Jerry had removed his hand from between the two of them, leaving his erection to throb unattended, pressed to Dean’s own arousal.

“Yes?” Dean sighed, low and satisfied as he removed his fingers and filled the void with his straining cock. Without waiting for Jerry’s reply, he sinks inside of him. The shock and pain-lined pleasure has Jerry biting his lip, staring, defenses dropped, into the eyes of the older man who was now holding him steady as he slid within him right to the hilt. The first few moments are always the same no matter how creative they get. When the look in Dean’s eyes changes from mischievous or irate to this look; looking at Jerry like he really was the kid, fresh and inexperienced, and it fell to Dean to protect and adore him. Dean’s grip softens to cupped hands guiding Jerry as he rose slowly, clutching at Dean. Jerry shifted the control the first time he rolled his hips, striking the spot inside himself that made him grip Dean tightly, as Dean sinks his fingers into Jerry’s sides, holding him still as the waves of pleasure wash over them both. Jerry chewed his lip until it felt like it would split but repeated the motion, fighting against Dean’s grip to keep him in place.

“Jerr- this- I give. I can’t hold it much longer if you do tha-“ Jerry lunged forward, causing the chair to totter a bit before Dean firmly planted his feet to floor, thrusting forward, keeping the writhing armful of Jerry in place as they regained their balance. Dean took advantage of the shift and thrust fervently into the younger man, keeping a tight grip on him.

“Let me see you first,” Dean whispers, kissing along the side of Jerry ear. Dean wrapped his hand around Jerry’s cock as it twitched and left a wet slick on Dean’s stomach. Dean didn’t wait, stroking the younger man in time with his short thrusts onto Dean’s cock. Soon, Jerry began to shake, fighting the urge to bury his face in Dean’s shoulder. He felt even more exposed letting his orgasm tear through him as Dean took him all in, wringing each drop of ecstasy from him. Jerry looked so sweet and sexy as he fought to keep from covering himself under Dean’s half-lidded eyes. But the sight of Jerry losing control had Dean joining him nearly a heartbeat away from the younger man. Jerry sinks his teeth into Dean’s shoulder when he feels the warmth of Dean’s release surging inside of him.

Dean rocks slowly inside of Jerry until he reaches the aching point of seeking another arousal, that he knew would be nearly impossible, and letting himself slip from his partner’s warm confines. Feeling himself slip from Jerry made all the more torturous when Jerry whimpers softly against his neck bemoaning their separation.

“Don’t wanna,” Jerry mumbles curling into Dean’s lap, pressing in close when Dean kisses the top of his head.

“Don’t hafta,” Dean chuckles, wrapping his arms around Jerry. It's true they'd have to go their separate ways tonight but that wasn't now, not yet anyway.

Though after more time passed, each man wordlessly broke away from the other; separating for a bath at the sink before redressing.

Once Dean was dressed, he watched bemused as Jerry fought with his tie until he looked over at Dean, giving up on his shaky-handed attempts. These routines were getting harder each time Jerry has to trod them and it shows when his eyes begin to tear and won’t meet Dean. A final pass of the silk through knot and Jerry looked picture perfect.

Dean didn’t even need to look up to sense Jerry’s upset, just walked closer and then using a soft fist, bumped Jerry’s chin so that their eyes were level with each other. Dean brought his hand to Jerry’s cheek wiping the stray tear away with his thumb, gripping Jerry by the back of his neck again and coming in to kiss the damp spot left on his cheek.

“You look good, kid.” Dean says, looking Jerry over with approval, smoothing his lapels, straightening his tie. When another tear strays down Jerry’s cheek, Dean steps in close, careful not to rumple Jerry’s clothes and kissed him like he had just not long ago.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jerry asks, voice soft and thoughtful.

“And every day after,” Dean says with a final kiss before stepping in front of the mirror to give himself one last looking-over before exiting the dressing room. He knew to stay only hurt Jerry more and made it harder and harder for him to keep his promises.

Yet, Jerry could never stay upset, in any sense, for too long. Dean felt a burn low in his stomach of anticipation when the thought occurred to him that Jerry was probably just using this time on his own for tomorrow’s revenge – tomorrow’s chance to make Dean come undone and make good on his word.


End file.
